We're owl exterminators (shadow_hive) wrote,
We're owl exterminators

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Pairing: Lee Malia/Ian Watkins
Rating: NC-17
POV: Ian
Warnings: BDSM
Notes: For emmaopteryx whose birthday it is today! Yay! You can drink booze and... other stuff now. I expect there to be a sudden shortage of rum.

My legs ached from being streched from my body. I'd been left like this, naked and with my legs pulled apart. The bed didn't have any bedposts, so my legs were kept apart by a spreader bar. My arms were tied behind my back, kept in some form of binder to prevent any movement. A strap was wrapped around my head, securing the ball gag in my mouth. I'd been like this for some time now. There wasn't a clock or anything to tell me the time and even if there was the room was too dark. I squirmed a little more, my arse aching a little from the plug up there.

I glanced over at the door as I heard it finally open, light illuminating the room. I blinked as I adjusted to the light, gazing at the figure that stood there. He was wearing a spiderman costume, complete with a hood. There were eyeholes and a lack of gloves, but otherwise it was perfect.

He crossed the room over to me and looked me up and down. Once he reached the bed he paused, reached out and ran a hand along my thigh. He kept quiet, running his hand up stopping at my gun tattoos. As many people had done before, he lingered on them, stroking and tracing the designs with his fingertips. I swallowed behind the gag as he touched my sensitive skin, the contact going straight to my cock. He seemed to notice that and his fingers moved downwards, towards my hardened dick. He paused again, running a finger along my stiff dick slowly. If I could moan properly, I'd be doing it right now.

He shifted his hand to my balls cupping them just a little. His touches made me feel frustrated, more needy. I wanted him to touch me properly. To wank me or finger me or suck me or fuck me or whatever other shit was crossing his mind. I bucked my hips up slightly, but he held me down with his other hand, pressing me against the bed.

After a few moments, which seemed to last longer then they actually were, he started moving again. This him his hand darted behind my balls, his fingers darting along my crack. He made an approving sound when he touched the plug, something he repeated when I moaned as he twisted the end. I expected him to pull it out, but he didn't. Instead his fingers rubbed my balls again and trailed back up my cock to the head. He ran a fingertip around the edge ever so slowly, then withdrew his hand completely.

He backed off from me and I watched as he slipped his cock out of a hole in the costume. Once it was free he climbed on the bed and grabbed the bar. With surprising ease for someone his height, he pushed it until my knees were pressed against my chest. He kept a grip on the bar climbing onto the bed. His right hand left the bar, running down my leg until it arrived at the curve of my arse. In one movement he ripped the plug from me, tossing it aside with enough force for it to bounce off the wall.

Before I had time to register it's removal he was inside me, filling me up in one go. He moaned behind the hood, gripping onto the bar with both hands again, using it as leverage as he thrust into me. Fuck he felt so good. I squirmed a little on the sheets wishing that either my hands were free or the gag was gone, however he did neither. He was content to fuck me hard and deep, the fabric of the outfit rubbing against my ass. He pounded me harshly, each thurst catching my spot at various degrees. Sometimes he'd hit it dead on and I'd buck up wildly, while others would only just catch it and make me whimper needily. Of course such sounds didn't reach my ears as intended, but I knew what they were supposed to be.

His blue eyes met mine through the small eye holes and it seemed like we communicated without words. He released the bar, then ran his hand back down my leg again. I expected him to do what I wanted, which was to undo the gag or the binder but instead he did something that was probably better. He wrapped his fingers around my cock and started to pump me. It was a little awkward due to the positioning, but, coupled with his thrusting, it was good enough. My eyelids fluttered closed, my hips bucking up against my thighs.

When I opened my eyes again everything felt like a blur. His costume made his movements a blur of red, blue and black his head tipping back a little as he stroked firmer. I didn't last shooting over the backs of my thighs and calves, my eyelids closing again at the feeling.

"Shit..." I heard him speak for the first time since he'd entered, but even then I wasn't sure if I'd heard him or was imagining it. I felt him thrust into me hard one last time, his clothed hips making contact with my ass just before he came, filling me up. He stayed still for a few moments, then pulled out of me letting go of the bar and my softened dick.

He reached up, then removed the hood, showing his face for the first time. "That was, like, so hot." He grinned, lowering my legs down to the bed. I tried to respond, but the gag just made it come out as a jumble of sounds and made more drool cover my chin. He chuckled and grinned. "Sorry, you're a fantastic fuck Ian, but Oli tied you and Oli'll free you." He winked at me, then hopped off the bed and turned to go. "Like, have fun waiting."
Tags: bring me the horizon, fic, ian watkins, ian watkins/lee malia, lee malia, lostprophets, slash
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